


make my wish come true

by stupidloud



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, Fluff, Lance is Petty but only in his head because irl hes too in love to Speak, Lots of that, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, Voltron Secret Santa 2017, for phantom!! yay!!, vldss17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 11:18:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13122639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidloud/pseuds/stupidloud
Summary: “A world where one has to fight for custody of one’s boyfriend is a godless one,” Lance muttered, slumping so he was leaning against Hunk. Shiro exchanged some final words with Kolivan before the screen blipped out. Ah yes, the ideal Christmas Eve: long boring talks and war meetings. Wonderful.❆❅❆keith comes home for christmas.





	make my wish come true

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PhantomPierceOkamoto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomPierceOkamoto/gifts).



> did i use an All I Want For Christmas lyric,,,,,? yes because im cliche. phantom, bro, i hope u like this because i like making people happy!! i tried!!!

“A world where one has to fight for custody of one’s boyfriend is a godless one,” Lance muttered, slumping so he was leaning against Hunk. Shiro exchanged some final words with Kolivan before the screen blipped out. Ah yes, the ideal Christmas Eve: long boring talks and war meetings. Wonderful.

Lance crossed his arms and Hunk bumped their elbows, “I know it’s a huge bummer, dude. But if he has missions and stuff, we shouldn’t really bang on him. Sure, we got him a bunch of presents. And I really wanted to have the first Christmas in space be all cool with all of us together…” Lance glanced at him. He was wringing his hands, looking back with watery eyes, “Great, now _I’m_ sad.”

“Sorry, I can’t be sad,” Pidge sat sideways on her chair, arms under her head, “I don’t know who you two are talking about. I don’t know a ‘Keith’ and if I did, he’d be dead to me.”

Lance tried poking her cheek and she smacked him away. He persisted anyway, “You can’t use that on us, Pidge Podge. I’ve seen you cry about a tiny robot kitten. You’re a big ol’ softy.” She scowled and he grinned. Hunk took a maintenance rag out of his pocket and blew his nose.

And Lance thought maybe the inevitable rant about said robot kitten (which did happen) (because “It was fucking adorable, Lance, and the _technology—_ “) would be enough. It could give him a good excuse for a back and forth and he wouldn’t have to think about it for at the very _least_ an hour.

Nope. Didn’t happen.

Somehow, Lance’s ADD addled mind was able to both pay attention to Pidge and remind him how he definitely, one hundred percent was not spending Christmas with Keith. _Great._

Okay, so maybe Christmas was a loose term; they were going off of birthdays that’d passed and the approximate conversion of time. They’d taken advantage of the fact and skipped Thanksgiving with so much going on. But Christmas was _Christmas_ , they’d been planning everything since before Halloween, before Keith decided to ditch them.

(Yeah, right, his decision and they all signed off and sent him on his merry way, he shouldn’t be petty, blah, blah, blah, get back to him when _your_ boyfriend joins a freaky ninja cult.)

(Still. A thousand percent supportive. Obviously.)

Keith hadn’t even been there to have a say in it. Lance tried mentioning it during lulls in the conversation, finally stepping up next to Shiro and asking bluntly. Shiro’s eyes went wide, but he let Lance speak since Keith _was_ his brother. If anybody wanted him over for Christmas, it was him.

Kolivan responded with, _“Sorry, no, I can’t let you be happy right now. Get fucked.”_

Well, small lie, it was more like, _“Official mission, part of his training,_ ” but Lance could read between the lines. He’d have an inkling of hope if he didn’t know Keith would follow along, if he didn’t know how much he wanted to learn about the other half of his life. And Lance got it, of course.

I mean, what kind of boyfriend didn’t support these kinds of things and hated the idea? An awful, terrible one.

(Lance was an awful, terrible boyfriend. Jesus.)

“Alright!” Coran bounced in, the Santa hat Lance had made him placed jauntily on his head, “I found some more decorations we could use from the Festival of the Mistlebird. Should we begin or wait for Number Four to get here?”

“Number—“ Shiro looked like he was about to make a face, but he wiped it away with his hand, pushing his hair back with the same movement, “ _Keith’s_ not, uh… He can’t come.”

He didn’t deflate, so much as freeze before going back to his idle animation of balancing on his toes, “Well… what do you suggest then?”

“On with the show,” Pidge announced grandly, sitting up. “We’re not cancelling. I didn’t take three hours at the space mall to find the perfect gifts for the Grinch to steal Christmas.”

Hunk rubbed at his eyes, said, “If anyone’s the Grinch, it’s you, Pidge.”

Pidge slowly turned, eyes narrowing, “Say that again.”

He waved a hand, trying to be nonchalant, “I mean your color’s green.”

“You live in trash,” Lance added, holding up a finger, “and I’m pretty sure he’s some type of goblin, just like you.”

She pointed sharply, “Okay, you have _one_ point. But neither of you can expect anything from me tomorrow. I’m keeping _three_ gifts now. Merry Christmas to _me_.”

 

❆❅❆

 

The tree towered over the lounge, close to hitting the ceiling. Matt freaked out when they led him in to show him. They requested it from the Olkari, coming with the extra gift of a sphere that sent twinkling lights floating among the branches when a button was pressed. Lance almost cried (Hunk and Pidge actually cried) and Shiro smiled wider than they’d seen him since Keith’d left. Allura and Coran were ecstatic to participate, carrying boxes upon boxes of potential ornaments in with surprising speed.

They used the jetpacks to fling different colored tinsel and streamers around the leaves. For the actual toys and decorations, Lance got on Allura’s shoulders to reach the taller branches, everybody else going for the rest.

None of the actual thing matched. Like at _all._ Through normal eyes it would’ve been ugly. And not cute ugly; straight-up _burn the witch, Jesus Christ_.

Lance sent a picture of teetering Pidge, stacked on Hunk, stacked on Allura trying to put a little model Red next to Blue, followed by, _They said it was Absolutely Necessary they be together & 8 shit seconds l8er_

Keith responded almost immediately, _isn’t it though?_

_Yeah which is why u should be here dumby_

(He didn’t send that. He sent a heart and threw the tablet on the couch and pretended to forget about it.)

But everything came from something, a parade, a toy some kid had given them, bazaars and handmade things from Pidge’s trash heap. Matt brought pictures he’d taken from the past weeks and propped them at eye level, and, no, he didn’t think about how much Keith would’ve loved that.

(He did. He would have loved it.)

There was debate about the star.

Angel?

It was a statuette of Voltron, right, from this festival they’d rallied at. They weren’t going to use it, but Hunk had made tiny wings out of welded pieces of metal. Matt and Lance added a star to the tip of the sword stretched toward the ceiling.

And because it was a parent-youngest-child thing, per the majority tradition, Shiro flew up carrying Pidge and she secured Voltron to the top of the tree.

 

❆❅❆

 

So maybe Lance cried. Just a little.

 

 ❆❅❆

 

They had to promise not to try and guess what everything was when they put all the presents under it, Lance giving Hunk a pointed look.

“I’m offended.”

“You know I’m right, dude.”

He sniffed, agreed, “I know you’re right. But I can still be offended.”

The plan had been to stay up a little longer and talk with mugs of hot chocolate (it took a lot of tweaking with the milkshakes), but they were tired from the drills they’d run with the rebels and there was still that whole Keith thing that didn’t seem to want to _leave_.

Though _he_ did.

Huh, would’ve been funnier if it wasn’t fake humor hiding real pain. Damn.

Lance took a quick shower, barely slapped some lotion on his face before collapsing into bed. He groaned into his pillow and flipped on his back, sticking his tongue out at the ceiling. He didn’t look to his right because of the small shadow he knew would be on his dresser.

See, because Lance was extra, because he was _Lance_ , he’d gotten Keith two presents. The matching socks (that lit up when you stomped your feet, a fucking _find_ ) and sweater he’d knitted that said BABE were under the tree.

He’d been planning on giving the box to Keith, like, approximately now. When they were going to sleep. And it was gonna be cheesy and gross and _great._

He turned on his other side, facing the wall, and burrowed deeper under the blankets. Dumb Blade. Dumb Kolivan. Dumb _Keith_. Especially dumb Keith. Everybody was irreversibly dumb.

“Dumb Keith,” he murmured, shutting his eyes.

 

 ❆❅❆

 

He was dreaming about Mariah Carey (because who didn’t dream about Mariah Carey on Christmas Eve) and she was singing something up until the speakers on either side of the stage gave a loud _thump_.

He opened his eyes.

There was a shadow with a bulging bag of something along the blue tint of the lights. He had a second of _Santa?_ Before realizing Santa probably wasn’t so short. And also did not deliver in space.

He sat up and turned.

Keith was still in his Marmora suit, hood down, mask omitted, wringing the strap of his bag in his fists. Lance half-expected him to disappear, or at least start belting on off-key _Baby Please Come Home_ (which really should’ve been his line, but he digressed).

So Lance asked, “Are you real?”

He stopped his worried hands for a second to roll his eyes, and, _yup_ , there we go. Lance threw a pillow at him, just to make sure, and he let go of the strap to catch it. Before he could put it down, Lance was up, ignoring the head rush to wrap his arms around him, squeezing him close, “Oh my god, you’re seriously here— You—“

_Wait._

He pulled back, just enough so their noses weren’t touching, “Wait, what are you doing here?”

Keith blinked, “What?”

“Not that—I mean, Kolivan said you had a special ops level mission or whatever.” He flapped his hand behind Keith’s back, “Aren’t you supposed to be, like, halfway across space right now?”

He made a face, shrugging, “Yeah?”

“Then why aren’t you—“

“I took a pod and snuck out,” he said it firmer this time, standing straighter.

And Lance was kind of slow, his brain still wasn’t fully awake, “Why?”

Keith rose an eyebrow, tilting his head.

_Oh._

Lance felt his jaw kind of hang open.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Keith deadpanned, but the side of his mouth was twitching, “ _oh._ ”

Lance realized he was almost vibrating, pressing Keith closer to him, “What about your training?”

“I can skip a day.”

“Kolivan said you couldn’t. He’ll be pissed.”

“I don’t care.”

Lance’s smile was hurting his cheeks, “Wow, that’s edgy.”

“I’m serious.” He shifted and brought up a hand to the side of Lance’s face, thumb skipping along his cheekbone. His palm was warm through the glove, “The mission isn’t even that important. I… I just wanted to be here. With you guys.” He showed a little bit of teeth, half a smile, a whole heart attack, “With you.”

Lance’s heart beat hard against his ribcage and he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts before trying to talk again, “T-That’s cool,” and it felt so much like a Hallmark movie moment, in his head, that _It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas_ started ringing in his ears. He leaned forward and kissed Keith’s cheek, “That’s super cool.”

_He’s ours. Even for a day._

Lance didn’t notice he was holding Keith tighter, scattering even more kisses around his face until Keith was close to laughing ( _his laugh, his laugh_ ), shoving at his shoulder, “Lance,” he was trying to act mad and it was _adorable_ , “stop.”

“Can’t,” he picked him up, spun on his heel, and the bag was heavier than Lance’d thought but he didn’t care, “too happy.”

Keith wiggled his feet, “Fuck—Lance, put me _down_ —“

“That’s physically impossible for m—“

He twisted until at least his toes were supporting him and had Lance’s face securely between both hands so his lips were puckering. It prevented him from smiling like he wanted to.

Keith was just looking at him, grip loosening, until he mumbled, “If you’re gonna do it, at least do it right,” and pressed their mouths together. Lance kind of ruined it by laughing, clacking their teeth together. Keith didn’t seem to mind. He slipped his hands into Lance’s hair laughed along.

 

❆❅❆ 

 

It was good. God, it was so, so good.

 

❆❅❆

 

Lance put all the presents in Keith’s bag under the tree to save the surprise, convincing Keith to change into pajamas instead. There were in black cloth bags with dark purple trimming, and upon Lance’s asking if he’d stolen them from the Blade, Keith pretended not to hear.

It made Lance weirdly proud.

Keith was sitting on the bed when Lance came back, staring at the top of the doorway. Lance grinned, sitting next to him, “I was gonna take it down but…”

“You’re ridiculous,” he responded, taking his eyes off the mistletoe to look at him. Lance could actually see him now with the lights less dim, and there was a bruise all along his jaw. One of his hands was bandaged down over his forearm. Lance touched it briefly. Linked the same hand with Keith’s.

“Enough for you to sneak out though, right?” He could find a way to stop touching him, putting his arm around his waist, laying his head on his shoulder. Keith had already been plenty athletic before training, but he still had some degree of softness. Now he was all sharp angles, muscles shifting everywhere Lance had contact.

Keith nodded and his hair tickled Lance’s ear, “Yeah.”

Lance nuzzled closer to his neck and remembered. Got up to his dresser and resumed his position, pressing the box into Keith’s good hand, “Uh, right. I got you this. It’s probably kind of really lame and cheesy but so am I, so I don’t care.”

Keith snorted, bumping their heads against each other. He ran his finger over the bow before, “Wait, do I open it now?”

“No,” Lance said airily, “the box itself is your present. Merry Christmas, babe.”

“Shut up,” he said and pulled on the ribbon.

Lance went for a pair of necklaces. Because he was _cheesy_.

They were identical, deep red stones like rubies hanging on leather chords.

“It’s…” he chewed his bottom lip, “I mean, they’re enchanted. Apparently. I’m not sure what they actually do but the chick selling them was an empath so…”

Keith was quiet.

“Like I said, lame and cheesy? She told me I ‘felt’ like I needed them, and after she explained it I kind of feel like I do too because I miss you, like, all the time, and—“

“You’re rambling.” Keith wound one of the chords around his finger, “I love them. I love them, Lance.”

A bubble of anxiety he didn’t know was growing in his chest popped and Lance scooted closer. He kissed Keith’s neck, “Really?”

“Yeah. Obviously, yeah.”

Lance smiled, sat up, “Can I put it on you?”

He nodded and Lance took one out. Keith tied Lance’s and the stone was somehow warm against his shirt, spreading through him. He held it and realized it was _beating._ Not in his hand but in his skin, familiar, like his ear was up against someone’s chest.

Or his throat.

 _Keith’s_ heartbeat.

This was Keith’s heartbeat.

He sent a silent thanks to the empath and hoped it reached her, closing his hand around the stone. He reached out and pressed his other palm against the left side of Keith’s chest, matching, beating faster. Lance laughed, kind of breathless.

Keith mirrored him, realization dawning.

Both their pulses were jackhammering, speeding up. They simultaneously looked up in a way that really should’ve been creepy, if Lance hadn’t been smiling as dorkily as he was.

“Lance,” and Lance blushed because he knew Keith felt his heart skip. Goddamnit. He wasn’t quite grinning, leaning forward and kissing him softly, “Thank you.”

Now that was something he had to learn to control. Definitely not okay. Well…

Unless.

“It’s okay,” he fell back on the blanket and tossing his arm over his eyes, “you’ve already given me a better present.”

The bed dipped as Keith moved, “I haven’t even given you your present yet.”

“You came.” He took his arm away, tangling their fingers, “That’s present enough.”

The stone beat hard on cue.

 “God,” Keith groaned, almost cut off by a yawn, slumping down on his side of the bed. “I hate you.”

He really didn’t.

“You really don’t,” Lance said and his eyes popped open as Keith tucked himself into his side, one leg over both of his. It’d been a long time. Weeks since he’d had this. “My present’s still pretty rad.”

Keith said the words into his jaw tiredly, “No. I don’t. I seriously don’t think anything can top it.”

“I’m a great judge of character.”

“You’re a great _boyfriend_. I don’t know about the other thing.”

Lance wouldn’t cry. Not right now. He blinked, turning to hug Keith closer, bury his nose in his hair. It wasn’t nearly as greasy as he thought it would be, just sweat, just Keith. “I think I really missed you calling me your boyfriend.”

Lance could feel Keith picking at the hem of his shirt, rubbing the material between his fingers. They’d never really been _say what you mean_ people before, communicated more through subtleties than anything. Bumping shoulders, brief touches, fond comments over the comms. There wasn’t time for that anymore. Say what you mean or bust.

Keith bypassed his shirt entirely, spreading his hands over Lance’s ribs. Despite how warm it was, a shiver went up Lance’s spine, came back down when Keith murmured against his collarbone, “I love you, boyfriend. I love you, Lance.”

He was sleep deprived. He was so obviously sleep deprived, and Lance couldn’t even care. There was so much in his chest spreading, ebbing into his stomach, his limbs, making him light-headed. He hooked his foot behind Keith’s calf to pull it between his legs, breath hitching, “I love you too. I missed you. I missed you so much.”

 

 ❆❅❆

 

He didn’t think waking up with Keith’s hair in his mouth would give him the nostalgia it did. If he had any doubts about being head over heels for the guy, it was squashed, even as he shoved him away, rolling over, “Merry Christmas. You need to start wearing ponytails to sleep.”

Keith made a low noise, “Good morning. I won’t,” even as he took Lance’s wrist, snapping off one of the hair ties he kept there for him, pulling back his hair before slinging his arm over Lance’s hip.

“You just did,” Lance sang, pulling his arm tighter around him and snuggling back. “Merry, merry Christmas.”

“How long’ll you keep repeating it?”

“Until you say it back. Merry Christmas. Happy Hanukah. Happy Kwanza.

“Merry Christmas,” Keith echoed, burying his face in Lance’s neck. “Happy Hanukah. Happy Kwanza.  Now go back to sleep.”

He tapped a short rhythm over Keith’s arm, “Can’t. Adrenaline’s pumping. Presents. So many presents.” He flipped around to take Keith’s face in his hands to make sure he was looking at him (because two can play it dirty), “Hunk’s cookies, babe. Hot chocolate. C’mon.”

“Not to sound like you,” his lips being puckered, muffled his voice, “but that’s cheating.”

“ _Keith_ ,” he drew it out, coated it in all that sugar and sweetness, kissed his nose. _“Sweetheart.”_

“Seriously fucking cheating,” Keith huffed, pulling Lance’s hands away before kicking the blankets off.

Lance grinned, hopping after him. He brushed his teeth first, giving him the freedom to braid Keith’s bangs into a crown while he got his turn. Keith didn’t even try to argue when Lance handed him his jacket, pulling it on carefully. The sleeves were still too long for his arms, and Lance wasn’t sure why that was so satisfying.

Lance held him back by grabbing the hood, pointing up before he could leave, “Hey.”

Keith glanced at the mistletoe, side of his mouth twitching, “Hey.”

Lance cupped the back of Keith’s neck, pinky curling around the chord of his necklace. The beat was a good fast, steadily happy.

They kissed slow. Like they had all the time in the world again, like Kolivan wasn’t about to knock down their door and drag Keith back tooth and nail. Like Lance was Blue and Keith was Red and they were partners. Back to back.

Lance took the mistletoe off and tucked it into Keith’s crown, touching his temple. Keith wrapped an arm around his waist.

**Author's Note:**

> lmao i kind of regret how i finished it but like it Fits. i also kinda Really like how this came out so still!! merr chryler phantom!! happ all holidays! hope all the good things u want to come for u do!!!!
> 
> also shoutout to H&M for coming in clutch since i was Boutta get this ugly sweater that said Ho Ho Ho Homies but it didnt get here on time so i had to make a quick run for one that says Ho Ho Ho but when u flip the sequins its Yo Yo Yo. merry crisi!s!!!!!!


End file.
